


Moriarty In A Supermarket

by jackmarlowe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, This is Edie's Fault, Utter Nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 19:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackmarlowe/pseuds/jackmarlowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt: Jim Moriarty is in a supermarket. A robbery ensues, of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moriarty In A Supermarket

**Author's Note:**

> Edie (shayvaalski) gave me this prompt ages ago, a few days post-Reichenbach. Nonsense.

He has the most perfect teeth when he smiles, leans close over the cash register, and tells her he’d like to rob this store. It’s only a Tesco, she says, and hopes wildly this is a pick-up line and numbers will be exchanged. Never mind that he wears the nicest suit and she couldn’t afford him. She has to mind and is bitterly disappointed when the man next in line has a gun as well as a box of oranges.  

They do look awfully good, holding up the quarter-past eleven crowd. Security is furious and the gunman perfectly bored, herding them with a quick blonde gesture like in a film. She sits behind the till uncertain and wonders if she should say something, but he’s patting the cat lady from around the corner reassuringly on the elbow, there there, and, she thinks, oh, he’s _nice_.

Wallets. No hurry at all. He helps himself to a Mars Bar and sits chewing on the conveyer belt by her till. The gunman goes methodically down the line of shoppers, checking, rifling, but she sees it first thing when the other one leans an inch her way and tilts his head to whisper. 

Can I have a go? 

She looks up and knows immediately what he wants – another disappointment, when she sees it five times a day in the toddlers, though not with dark clever eyes all fired-up charm and immaculate tailoring. For this, she pushes the button and he comes rolling towards her all grin, chuffed to pieces. 

Boss- 

His sleek head whips around, ermine’s teeth coming to pleased points. The gunman has an older woman’s wallet in the crook of his elbow and her arm in his grip. She squeaks as he drags her forward; the boss, for this is a good word for him, springs off the till and bounds up. 

Oh _hi_ , Mommy Hudson – what’s the order for our favourite party of two?

She can’t say it but she has milk in her cart. She was taking it to the self-check-out. Ninety-eight p. 

Oh, oh. He sucks in his cheeks so he looks like a James Bond villain and swallows half the Mars Bars whole, mustelid to snake. So _healthy_ this week. Whole milk? You _cheeky devils_. That’s all, thank you, love- this, to her, batted eyelids over his shoulder –and then he takes the gunman’s elbow, the other man lets the woman’s go, and out they go before she thinks once about calling the police.


End file.
